


Before Something Happens

by istie



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Blood, Bloodplay, M/M, Sexual elements, Vampire Shane Madej, but no actual sexytimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 02:30:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14439561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/istie/pseuds/istie
Summary: Shane's a vampire.  Ryan doesn't know.  Ryan finds out rather unexpectedly.  ...Well, sort of.





	Before Something Happens

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the weekly prompt roulette on the BFU writers' server, thank ye kindly to @skepticseptic for setting it up!

"I've forgotten what it's like to feel young," he mused, running his hand over his stubbled jawline as he stared at himself in the mirror. "What to do about that?"

The tall man rubbed his eyes, stretched, and ran his hands through his hair, already a mess from sleep but now even more so. He looked at himself again in the mirror, stooping a little to see his whole face. His eyes were bloodshot, and he could see streaks of white in amongst the dark brown whiskers growing on his chin. Plus, he suspected he could pack a week's worth of clothing in the bags under his eyes. He sighed. He couldn't put this off any longer.

It was unrealistic of him to expect to go so long between feeding. And usually it wasn't this much of a problem! Swoop down on some unsuspecting stranger in an alley, bite, suck, go. Not hard. Do it often enough and that was all he needed – a teaspoon or so. It meant he was always a _little_ hungry, but not so far gone as to be a danger. Kept him on his toes and kept his dining habits as nothing more than strange occasional police reports, nothing that would lead to a manhunt. He really needed to brush up on his glamours and healing cantrips, though, he was getting sloppy.

He lathered his face, grabbed his straight razor and set to work. He'd walk to get groceries today, he thought, that would give him enough of an opportunity to snag someone. Maybe in that little alley across from the Starbucks, there were always lots of people around and he was still damn fast even if he _was_ a little sloppy, he could probably manage that ...

He jumped as someone wrapped arms around his waist, and nicked his cheek with the razor. A tiny trickle of blood made the shaving foam turn pink, and he looked down to see his boyfriend – the real reason he hadn't been feeding lately, because he'd barely left his side – blearily hugging him. "Morning, sunshine," he said, cheerily, shifting slightly and returning to his shave. "Sleep well?"

"Mm hmm," the shorter man murmured, his head resting against the taller man's shoulder. "You put me out like a light, Shane, I'm never sleeping with anyone else ever again."

Shane chuckled. "Yeah? It was good for me, too, baby." He tapped Ryan's smooth, tanned, buff forearm, which rested on his waist. "Wanna go make breakfast?"

"No," Ryan replied, nuzzling Shane's shoulder, "wanna stay with you."

Shane snorted. "God, you're cute when you're sleepy." He nudged Ryan. "Go make coffee. I'll be done in a minute. It's Saturday, we don't have to go anywhere, we can cuddle and have breakfast in bed."

Ryan moaned, and the sound shot straight to Shane's groin. "Oh man... _yes_. I'm making bacon and eggs and coffee and after we eat I'm fucking you senseless."

"Mmm," Shane replied, letting his voice growl low, "better deliver on that promise, Bergara, or I might just have to turn the tables on you."

Ryan slipped his arms out from under Shane's and left the bathroom, but not before palming a solid handful of Shane's ass and squeezing.

God, Ryan was hot. It was no bloody wonder – heh – Shane hadn't had time to feed in weeks. Seven hundred years old, you'd think he'd have given up on the whole carnal pleasure thing... Nope. Not for Ryan Steven Bergara. Shane stared at himself in the mirror again, half-shaved.

 _You should tell him_ , his conscience whispered, _before something happens_.

He slowly shook his head. _Not a chance in hell._

* * *

An hour later, breakfast plates and empty mugs on the nightstand and the bed an absolute disaster, they both lay in a tangle of sweaty limbs and twisted sheets, Shane's wrists still tied to the headboard in the impromptu pillowcase-cum-rope Ryan had yanked them up there with twenty minutes before. Ryan was sprawled mostly across him, and Shane, once he'd managed to roll his eyes forward again in his head and then open them to boot, was taking the moment to admire the expanse of his boyfriend's gorgeous, muscled back. There was no part of Ryan he didn't consider absolutely beautiful, and Shane had had a _lot_ of lovers over the years. They all paled in comparison ... well, except perhaps the Marquesa de Santillana in the late 1800s. But that was water under the bridge.

Ryan roused himself, climbing up Shane, warm hands steadying himself against Shane's chest and the headboard in equal measure, eyes still closed. He found Shane's neck, then his freshly shaven jaw, then his lips, and more kisses were happening, soft warm lips pressing against his, tiny little flicks of tongue, a hand up in his hair, the other on the back of his neck.

Shane kissed back, trapping Ryan's lower lip in his teeth gently, sucking on it, rubbing his nose against the side of Ryan's, feeling more than hearing his answering whimper. And then Ryan pulled away suddenly with a sharp inhalation, just a centimetre or so, and Shane's eyes flew open, locking with Ryan's. "What's wrong?" he asked, frowning. "You okay?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine, no worries," Ryan said, grinning back at him sheepishly, bringing a hand to his mouth and wiping at it. "We just got a weird angle there, I think you bit my lip a little hard. No big." His hand came away with a smear of red, Ryan licked his lips, and before Shane could protest Ryan was kissing him again, and the taste of iron filled his senses.

His vision went blurry before his eyes closed, he groaned long, low, and painfully, and he arched his body towards Ryan, pulling at the restraints on his wrists. He couldn't stop – he couldn't _think_ – Ryan was still kissing him, but then Shane moved to kiss down Ryan's jaw and neck and Ryan let him, crawling further up, straddling Shane's hips, and Shane was nuzzling the crook of his neck, the hollow above his collarbone, practically _purring_ , God, Ryan tasted good, he could feel his fangs slipping out—

_No, no, not like this, for the love of God, Shane, stop, stop—_

The little voice in his head was completely silenced as Shane sliced into Ryan's neck, and he vaguely felt Ryan jump in shock and try to pull away, but Shane let himself break the restraints – which he'd really only been keeping there as a courtesy – and he surged forward, pinning Ryan to the bed, lapping at the blood welling in the shallow wound in Ryan's neck, the intoxicating taste swirling in Shane's head.

After a moment, he let one hand slide down Ryan's side, stroking him gently, as he licked the wound closed and murmured the only healing words he could think of in his dazed, drunken state. They laid there for another moment, Ryan completely still in shock, Shane hazy and sated in a way he couldn't remember being in long, long years.

Finally, Ryan spoke, his voice a little shaky. "I, uh," he started, then cleared his throat, "I didn't know you were into bloodplay, big guy." He awkwardly patted Shane's shoulder, and kissed the side of his head, near his ear. "We should, um, negotiate that a bit before next time, eh?"

Shane couldn't help it: he laughed. It was more of a low chuckle, really, with a hint of sardonic disbelief, but his chest shook with several deep laughs, and he felt Ryan shake lightly with answering nervous laughter underneath him. "Oh, Ryan," he answered, his voice thick and full of gravel, his mouth still full of the taste of Ryan's blood, "I have so much explaining to do..."


End file.
